From Novice To Nature
by Splunge
Summary: Mixed realityOneshot. How does a person get sucked into D&D, and where does the cycle end?


**From Novice to Nature**

"Don't worry, you'll pick it up eventually. Nobody expects you to master it in your first session."

Looking down at the various pieces of equipment scattered around the table in front of him, Peter had to agree that the chances of anyone mastering this game in one sitting were slim to none. Various sheets of paper littered the table-top, some still blank, waiting to be used; others filled with diagrams, lists, and a disturbing number of figures. In the center of the table sat a handful of dice, nine in all. Simple enough, except for the fact that only three were the familiar six-sided dice used in most board games. The other six dice had sixty-four sides between them, ranging from four to twenty sides each. Most daunting of all was the large stack or reference books to one side, a testament to the complexity of the average role-playing game these days.

Peter looked over at 'the DM', who had stood up to speak. He wasn't entirely sure what 'DM' stood for yet, but he seemed to be in charge of the game. All the other players deferred to him, and most of his records were hidden behind a screen that sat in front of him on the table.

"OK everyone; before we begin I'd like you all to welcome Torval, our new fighter. He hasn't played before, so let's all try and be patient while he gets used to things."

Peter glanced at the other four players seated around the table, looking for the other new player. It took a moment before he remembered that he was Torval, or at least that was the name on the character sheet the DM had given him before they started. He glanced down at his sheet again, hoping it would make more sense the second time around, but it remained a hopeless jumble of numbers and letters. Occasionally a word would jump out that he'd recognize, like 'sword' or 'Strength'; he even had a fair idea of what 'Hit Points' meant. Others seemed like pure nonsense; what the heck was 'THAC0' supposed to mean, anyway?

"Let's get started, shall we? You're all in the small village of Sanbar. The town appears to have been attacked recently; several houses on the way into town have been burnt down and there are repairs being made along the main street. What do you do first?"

* * *

"Let's go to the local pub," suggested Steve.

The rest of the group chuckled; Steve always headed to the first pub he could find in any city. Peter joined in the laughter, but was secretly pleased with this now stale joke for a change. Torval had been killed after a nasty encounter with a bugbear during the session last week, and this week would see the introduction of his new character, Andrus, a half-elf magic user. John, the DM, had agreed to let Andrus enter the story as a character in the local tavern, so Steve's predictability was working to his advantage this time. Peter wasn't entirely sure how he'd make himself part of the group, but Peter had promised something interesting to help integrate him into the game.

"You walk into a typical tavern for a town of this size. There are several workers sitting at a bar, getting well and truly drunk. A couple of the tables are occupied as well. There is only one man serving behind the bar, but there is also a large brute standing near the door with an impressive looking club."

Peter tried to picture the tavern. In his minds-eye he saw a dirty taproom, with a fire to one side, a bar opposite the door and a few tables scattered around the room. The brute at the door was most likely there to keep the peace if the patrons became too rowdy. After a bit more thought, he decided that Andrus was most likely seated at one of the tables. He'd have to wait for more information before jumping into his character.

"I walk up to the bar and ask the barman if he knows of anyone who might have a bit of work for some traveling mercenaries," said Rob. Rob played the character Jaxxon, who was the unofficial leader of the group. Jaxxon was the one who usually found work or adventures for the group.

"The barman grunts and points over at one of the tables in the corner of the room. Sitting at the table is a finely dressed man and a half-elf."

Peter adjusted his mental image to include the two figures at the table. Most likely the half-elf was his own character, Andrus, although he couldn't be sure until he was introduced. The other character was still a mystery, although he was probably linked to whichever adventure the DM wanted them on this time.

Jaxxon instructed the rest of the group to settle down at one of the tables, and approached the pair.

"My name is Jaxxon, and those men over there are my companions. The barkeep tells me you might have a job for us."

"The finely dressed man sizes you up and glances over at the rest of the group. He decides you're safe enough to talk to. The man introduces himself as Lord Jarrod, and the half-elf at his side as his advisor," said John, giving a meaningful look at Peter.

"Greetings, Jaxxon. My name is Andrus," said peter, holding up his character sheet for the others to see.

* * *

A shout came from the trees surrounding the clearing, and a mass of dark forms sped towards the entrance of the cave. As they neared, Andrus had an idea and took one hand off his staff to prepare a spell. When the orcs reached the narrow entrance, he cried out a warning to the others and cast a bright light into the eyes of their attackers, blinding them for a few, vital moments.

As the orcs stumbled around the opening, the group moved forward and took advantagwe of their opponents' confusion. Three were cut down before the rest could defend themselves, and then the battle was joined. To his left, Andrus could see Stave hacking at the beasts, using his strength more than anything to break through their defences. On his other side, Jaxxon was defending himself and striking back whenever an opening presented itself. Rengor had moved forward into the fray, and he moved fluidly between his opponents, his twin blades catching brief flickers of moonlight as he fought, almost seeming to play with his foes.

A shadow loomed over him, and a sword descended towards his head. Andrus quickly brought his staff around to deflect the blow, and then brought the other end around to smash into the orc's head, knocking it out. Another stepped into its place, and Andrus was forced to defend himself from several wicked slashes to his chest before he found an opening to jab at the orc's neck, crushing his windpipe.

Andrus looked up from his foe in time to see Jaxxon fall to the ground with and arrow through his neck. He spotted the single archer still lurking in the trees and sent a magic missile hurtling towards it, but it was already too late; the damage had been done. The missile flew wide, and the orc fled into the forest.

And with that, it was over, Fifteen orcs lay on the floor of the cave, which was stained with their blood. The party gathered around the body of their fallen comrade, each bidding him a silent farewell before they moved on. There was no time for sadness, or even a burial; the escaped orc would likely bring reinforcements. Death was part of the risk in this line of work, and there was no use dwelling on it when more important matters faced the living.

As one, they turned and left the cave, in search of safety and, in time, revenge.

* * *

Peter walked into the small room he used for games half an hour early and started to set up everything needed for his campaign. He placed his rule books to one side and set up a screen around his portion of the table. His records for the game were stored in a folder, although he wouldn't need most of it until much later. He'd written the campaign from scratch, and had immersed himself so fully in it's creation that he knew every character by name, had walked through each setting in his mind, and new the chronology of the game intimately.

Peter pulled the pouch from his pocket and dumped the contents out on the table: nine dice. He liked this set, they were transparent, each one a different colour. He picked up a four-sided die and started spinning it on its tip, a habit he'd picked up while playing these kinds of games. It wasn't an easy trick; most people found the die-four too difficult to balance, but he'd had years to perfect his technique.

A knock on the door startled him, and the die spun across the table and onto the floor. Looking up he noticed a teenager leaning nervously through the doorway, looking around the room.

"Is this where the game is going to be?"

"Sure is. My name is Peter, and I'm the DM of this game."

"Umm, I'm Michael. Where's everybody else?"

"They'll be here soon. Come in and take a seat. Have you played before?"

"Nope, it's my first time," said Michael, walking in and taking a seat opposite Peter. Peter dug through his folder until he found one of his spare characters. Looking at the name, he chuckled before passing it over.

"Here, you can use this character. He's a warrior named Jaxxon." Peter watched him glance at the sheet in confusion and then look around the table, taking in the mound of books and the odd shaped dice.

"This looks a bit more complicated than I was expecting. I'll probably just slow you down."

"Don't worry, you'll pick it up eventually. Nobody expects you to master it in your first session."

**Fin**

* * *

This was an assignment for my Short Story elective at university. In the end, I was rather pleased with how it was received by the lecturer. I got a Pass for the assignment, but I consider it a triumph because it means I successfully passed off a first draft as a fully proof-read and edited short story. With the exception of the fight sequence in the third section, which was salvaged from an earlier version of the story, all of this story was written the morning that the assignment was due. 


End file.
